“Why’d you cut your hair?” I groan.
He clamps my nipple with his teeth, making me yelp before he looks at my face with his lips upturned, showing off his dimple. “I didn’t want anybody else to touch it.”
He lowers the other side of my bra and caresses my nipple with his tongue while he massages the other one with his fingers, not leaving any part of me ignored. I moan his name as he continues his sweet torture. He brings his lips to mine and kisses me softly as he shimmies my panties down my legs. He centers his hard, muscular body between my legs and enters me slowly, relishing the feel of me. His face watches mine in wonder, in awe, in love—and my expression returns the sentiment. We move in sync, pumping with emotion and sensual pain, and we fall together.
“What did you mean you didn’t want anybody else to touch it?” I ask as I look up at him with my head on his chest and thread my fingers through his short brown hair.
He smiles sadly. “When you broke up with me and I went to North Carolina, I just wanted to start over. I was forced to start over. I didn’t want to,” he gives me a knowing look. “My second week there I met some random girl at a party,” he caresses my face when I cringe at the thought. “She was flirting with me, asking me about my classes and football practice, and she leaned up and ran her hand through my hair. It made me think of you, and I decided to cut it off the next day. I didn’t want to ever be with a girl and have her pull on my hair like you did. It was bad enough that when I was with girls I wished they were you. I could only picture being with you,” he shrugs. “My hair was for you. Only for you.”
I give him a small smile. “You know those three words that you say to me, and you know I feel?” He smiles and nods. “If I wasn’t so scared, I’d say them right now.”
He kisses my head softly. “You know that nothing is going to happen if you say them, right? They’re just words, baby.”
I shake my head, my eyes tearing up. “No, Cole. When I say them, it’s like I’m asking the universe to make something bad happen. I hope I get over it someday. I hope I can say them and not feel guilty for it. I just—unless I think I’m going to die tomorrow—I won’t say them.”
He chuckles. “Oh, Blake, I love you. To the moon and back,” he says with a wink.
The following afternoon, we’re sitting on the living room floor watching TV when my doorbell rings. I look at Cole confused. He tilts his head as if to remind me that he doesn’t live here. I get up, look through the peephole, and see blond curly hair and hazel eyes staring back at me. Shit. Russell. I completely forgot about him. I run back to the living room quietly where Cole is looking at me expectantly.
“Russell’s here,” I whisper loudly.
“So?” he asks nonchalantly as he mutes the television.
“So? Get dressed!” I say.
“No. No. No,” he shakes his head. “We’re not playing this game anymore. I didn’t want to play it while you were with the douchebag, and I sure as hell am not going to play it while you’re my girlfriend,” he emphasizes. “My girlfriend, Blake,” he repeats loudly.
I throw my head back and let out a frustrated groan. “I know, I know. I’m not saying to pretend you’re not my boyfriend—just put on a damn shirt.”
He’s wearing basketball shorts and nothing else. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, and I look down at myself and shrug. I look fine.
“Hell no. You’re not opening the door wearing that,” he says as he turns to my room.
“Cole, I’m wearing shorts and a tank top,” I say annoyed.
“You’re wearing tiny shorts and a tiny tank top that doesn’t even cover your stomach.”
I laugh because—well, what else can I do? Should I explain to Cole that Russell has seen me wearing a lot less clothing? I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear that. He hears it anyway, though, in my laugh.
“Blake,” he hisses through his teeth. “I don’t even want to think about that, so don’t make me. Put on bigger clothes, and I’ll open the door for the loser.”
“No,” I shriek. “Just let me handle this. You stay here. I’ll change, and you can stay in here.”
“Hell no. That’s not how this is going to go. I’m not hiding anymore.”
“Fine,” I agree as I change.
“That’s what you’re going to wear?” he asks amused.
I look down at the white summer dress I’m wearing. Not tight and not too short.
“What now?” I ask confused.
“You’re going to break up with the poor bastard—or let him know that you’re not going to get back together with him—wearing that?” he asks again.
“Cole, shut up,” I groan and walk past him.
He laughs and walks up behind me. “You look sexy in that,” he purrs in my ear before biting my earlobe and heading back to the living room with me.
I take a deep breath and open the door to find Russell leaning on the frame.
“Hey, Blake,” he says. Damn his accent. Damn. Damn. Damn. I feel so bad.
“Hey,” I reply. “Want to come in?”
“Sure,” he answers as he steps around me. “Are you busy?”
“Not really. Cole and I were just watching TV.” I hope that by mentioning Cole’s name I can break the fall a little for him. Actually, I hope Cole keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t say that we’re together.
“Hey, Cole,” Russell calls out from the kitchen.
“Russell,” Cole greets with a nod and a wave of his hand.
We sit down in the kitchen. I offer him something to drink and he takes a glass of water. I sit with my hands on the table in front of me unsure if I should start the conversation or let him.
“So,” he starts. “Have you had a good week?”
“Sure,” I shrug. “You?”
“I’ve had better,” he says as his hazel eyes search my face.
“Russell,” I say quietly. “I think we’re better off staying friends.”
“I know. I figured you would still feel that way this week.”
I blink at him. He doesn’t look angry. He looks a little tired, but beyond that, he looks fine. We’d only been together for six months—maybe he didn’t get too attached. I can only hope.
I smile. “Good. So we can still be friends and study together and all that fun stuff?”
He chuckles. “Who am I to turn down a darling girl?” Goodness, that accent.
I bite down on my lip. “Thanks, Russ. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“No, thanks. I better get going. I’ll catch you later, Cole,” he calls out as we get up to walk to the front door. He stops with his hand on the knob and turns to me. He lowers his head and gives me a soft peck on the lips before letting himself out.
“Did he just kiss you?” Cole booms as he walks toward me. My eyes widen and I lock the door quickly and stand in front of it.
“Cole, it was barely a kiss. It was a closure thing,” I reply while I encircle my arms around his waist.
“That little shit better be thinking closure. Make sure he doesn’t kiss you again,” he replies, pulling back to look me in the eye.
I smile. “Yes, sir. These lips are all yours.”
He smirks and scoops me up to take me back to the living room.
“I know, but I can’t believe he fucking kissed you,” he groans into my hair.
Chapter Eleven
Past
The summer had finally arrived, and Cole and I were going to the lake with Becky and Greg for the day. Aubry was working all day, so he couldn’t join us. We crammed our things into Cole’s small black Accord and blasted the music loudly on the way there. Cole was stroking my thumb softly as he cradled my hand in his. We’d been arguing a lot—about everything—and I knew that even though he wouldn’t admit it, college was the source of the problem. Cole was upset that we were going to be in different states. I was upset because I knew I had to let him go. He hadn’t mentioned breaking up, but it would be impossible not to. Cole was every woman’s dr
eam, and since I had him, I was every woman’s envy. I knew that high school was filled with drama, no matter which one you go to or who you are. Still, my four years of high school had been hell and I was relieved to be out of there. I was ecstatic to be getting out of this small town, so I didn’t have to deal with seeing anybody from school again.
Cole and I were together most of junior year and all of our senior year. The first day when we walked into school holding hands, most people cheered and said, “Finally.” I think it was the beginning of senior year when the girls started getting catty with me. Some guys, Steve in particular, started getting on Cole’s nerves. I guess even though we were together, they figured with Cole’s track record with girls we would break up eventually. When we didn’t let them get to us, they upped their game. Girls started purposely putting underwear in his car, which he never locked. Freaking underwear! Who does that? Steve made an effort to blatantly flirt with me in front of everybody. When Cole found him cornering me one day after math class, he grabbed Steve by the back of the shirt and swung him across the hall. It was like a scene out of an eighties movie where the bully beats up the nerd. Except Steve was no nerd, and he’d overplayed his innocent card.
For the most part, I didn’t let the girls’ foolishness upset me. I knew Sasha, the head cheerleader, was behind most of it. She and Cole had a heated relationship in the past. She had a heated relationship with most of the athletes in the school, though. Apparently, Cole was her favorite. The thought made me sick, but I shrugged it off. If this was high school, I could only imagine what things would be like for him in college. Cole got a scholarship to play football at Duke University. Scouts flocked to most of the games during his last two years. He was the protégé everyone was after. He was the hot quarterback with the striking green eyes, killer smile, and effortless charm, who also happened to be book smart.
I realized the opportunities would be endless for him once he got to Duke. Girls would be throwing themselves at him left and right, and there, nobody would know or care about me. Hell, if they knew me here and didn’t care about me, what would it be like there? As much as I trusted him, I couldn’t live with the doubt. I knew it would only take a couple of days of him not calling me back to drive me insane with jealousy. I’d rather get a clean break and nurse a broken heart now than deal with it later.
Becky and Greg were both going to the University of Southern California. Greg got a football scholarship there. Becky had some money saved up, but she planned on paying for most of it with student loans. She was just glad to be getting out of Illinois and following Greg wherever he went. Aubry and I were going to attend the University of Chicago. I knew Aubry was secretly jealous of Becky because California was a good place for advertising, which they were both studying. He refused to let me go to Chicago alone though. Cole begged me to apply to Duke and go with him, but I couldn’t do that to myself. Besides, I loved Chicago and was glad that I was finally moving to the city, and I couldn’t ask Cole to give up his scholarship for me, either.
When we got to the lake, we batted off the usual batches of pesky flies—also known as cheerleaders. Or rather, ex-cheerleaders, since we were out of high school, and they were out of a hobby. I was sure some of them would go on to become great housewives and cheerleading coaches. Not to knock them all—less than a handful of them were nice to me and hadn’t tried to steal my boyfriend. I waved hello to those three and continued my walk to the water. We put out lawn chairs and a cooler. I started to strip off my shorts and shirt when I noticed that Cole had run off somewhere. When I looked up, I saw him talking to Sasha. I felt the blood drain from my body as I watched her run her hand down his chest, and even though he stopped it from reaching the band of his shorts, I was already seeing red.
“Becky, can you please turn around?” I huffed through clenched teeth.
Both Becky and Greg turned their heads to watch Cole and Sasha’s exchange.
“Cowboy, you know he doesn’t like her,” Greg said, trying to pacify my emotions.
“It doesn’t matter, Gregory,” I responded angrily. “Why is he even talking to her? Why is he standing so damn close to her? And why haven’t I ever seen you doing anything like that?”
He took a deep breath, but said nothing. Exactly. Silence. Greg never had that issue because Greg knew when to keep his dick in his pants. I cursed myself a million times for letting myself love Cole. I cursed myself again for cursing myself for letting myself love Cole. He was one of my best friends—despite his past actions—and I knew he would never cheat on me. But still, that hurt.
The longer I watched their exchange, the more furious I got. I decided to walk over to where Steve and his friends were sitting. I knew it wasn’t a good idea, but I was so livid that I couldn’t stop myself. I was wearing the tiniest red and white polka dot bikini that I could possibly fit into, which got Steve’s attention immediately. Cole hadn’t seen it yet, I’d been saving it for that day since it was our last trip to the lake together. Steve’s friends left us alone, and we started small talking about college. Steve was going to Northeastern University in Boston. He had plans to become a doctor like his father. At one point, he leaned into me, tucked some loose hair behind my ear, and caressed my earlobe. I shook his hand off, and looked at him, my wide eyes asking him what he was doing.
“We could have been good together, Blake,” he said quietly. “Still could be, you know.”
I took a step back and laughed lightly. “Nah, you’ll be off in medical school before you know it, and you won’t have time for me anyway,” I joked, trying to make the situation less awkward.
He pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning on and stepped closer to me as I took a step back. He stepped forward again, I stepped back. I felt like we were playing a game of cat and mouse. Maybe trying to get back at Cole this way wasn’t such a good idea after all.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, stopping close enough for me to hear him, but far enough that we didn’t look like we were having an intimate conversation. “I would never fuck around behind your back like he would.”
I gritted my teeth and tried to reign in my temper—to no avail. “He…” I emphasized by pointing my thumb behind me in the direction to where I thought Cole might have still been standing. “Wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. You don’t know him, so stop making assumptions. And you,” I said, taking a step closer and jabbing his chest with my pointer, “are just mad because you couldn’t have me. The only reason you were trying to get with me in the first place was to show him that you could do it.”
A sly smile spread across Steve’s face. “You’re very smart, Blake. I’ll give you that. I wish you well, and I hope you’re right about Cole.”
He saluted me before he turned around and left me fuming. I clenched my hands in a fist and turned around to stomp toward Cole. God, help me if he was still talking to that little skank. I looked around and finally found him. He was no longer speaking to Sasha. He was standing next to Greg with his arms crossed at his chest, and a pissed off look on his face—which I returned with a raised eyebrow. I sat down next to Becky and lathered myself up with oil and didn’t look up when I saw him plant his feet next to me. After a couple of seconds of burning holes into the top of my head, he sat down.
“What were you talking to Steve about?” he asked in an even tone.
“What were you talking to Sasha about?” I retorted.
I pictured his jaw muscles working, though I didn’t want to look. I focused my eyes on the blue and green lines on the towel below me until he lifted my chin so that I was forced to look at him. “College.” His eyes were flashing with anger.
I snapped my face out of his hold but held his glare. “Was she teaching you how to shower in college?” I spat irritably. “Maybe I should go ask Steve to give me a demonstration. Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
I stood up with no intention of finding Steve. I just needed a breather because I felt like at any moment I might slap the shit out
of Cole. He grabbed my arm firmly and pulled me back down.
“If you do that...” he said through gritted teeth before he let out a shaky breath.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “If I do that, what?” I asked a little loudly. “You’re going to break up with me?”
His anger was replaced with distress, and he pulled me into a hug. I tried to squirm away, but his arms held me tighter. Suddenly, I felt like crying—and I did. I buried my face in his chest and cried quietly. Nobody could see or hear me, only Cole. When he loosened his hold, I wiped the tears from my face and took a deep breath.
“I would never break up with you, baby,” he said into my hair. “Never.”
I didn’t respond. I was the one that was going to break up with him, and I had a feeling he knew this. The rest of the afternoon we splashed around, ate pizza, and went for ice cream. We acted like teenagers in love, and that’s what we were. That was the last time we were together as kids. In love, without a care in the world. I was happy that day. I was happy that summer. I was with the people I loved, and they were all happy. They were all safe.
A week before we were all leaving for college, Cole took me on a date. He left me a note on my bed, telling me to dress comfortably and to be ready by six. I threw on a green halter maxi dress and a pair of flip flops. Becky fixed my hair so that it curled widely at the bottom and smoothed out the frizz at the top. She gave my eyes a smoky look, making my gray eyes stand out. My eyes had come alive since I’d been in this house, they were no longer stormy and depressing. I put on lip gloss and went downstairs to wait for Cole. He came up with this idea when we started dating. He said that since we lived together I was missing out on the “fun” part of dates, which was him picking me up and knocking on the door to wait for me. He always asked me to be ready at a certain time so that he had enough time to get ready and leave the house, just to come back to pick me up.
The doorbell rang at 6:00, and I squealed in excitement as I got up and ran to it. I beamed at him when I saw the bouquet of sunflowers in his hand. His eyes greedily ran down my body as he handed me the flowers. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him, taking my mouth in his and kissing me arduously. The flowers slipped from my hands when I clutched on to his messy hair and pushed myself closer to him. His hands traveled down the thin fabric of my dress, down backside squeezing my butt. He let out a deep moan into my mouth that echoed through my body and made me quiver. When his mouth suddenly left mine, I whimpered in protest. Resting his forehead against mine, we caught our breath before he leaned down, scooping up the flowers and handing them to me again.
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